Stargazing
by Creidhe
Summary: A brutal incident changed her forever. Without any memory of being married to the King of Mirkwood; Aerthel is not only struggling to adapt to her old life but is also fighting to ignore the urgent calling of the Seas.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. I write for entertainment purposes only. **

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><p><em>STAR<em>GAZING

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><p><em>She might still be alive…<em>

The sentence ran through Túrion's head repeatedly. The intense feeling of blame was firmly set upon his heart when he realized that he had lost her. The promise that he had made; - that he would not let her out of his sight – had been broken. He had never broken a promise before. The ambush happened unexpectedly and never before had a pack of Orcs been so big in number. Túrion swallowed hard. He could not afford to lose hope and so he ran with nothing else in his mind but those words for the last hour.

_She might still be alive! _

The day was dim and the sun was hiding behind the blank of the winter sky. The forest was looking grim, almost as if it knew all too well what had transpired an hour ago. Túrion's chest felt unusually constricted; his shoulders ached. He could hear the others running right behind him. He knew that every single one of them was pushing themselves to go as fast as they could without ever taking a break. Around them there was nothing but thousands of trees; the forest was unusually silent. There were no birds singing that day, no deer in sight. The only sound was of their movements and rough breath.

_She might still be alive._

Those words… he suddenly wished that he had never heard them coming out from that uncouth beasts' mouth. And yet, he clung to those words as if his own life depended on it. He was not going to give up until she was found. Túrion's grey eyes suddenly spotted the dark smoke. He shouted orders and the squad behind him dispersed. If there were Orcs ahead they would be quickly slaughtered as he intended to surround them and give them a quick death. As they hastily closed in, Túrion found the scene before them one to be of outright pandemonium. The awful stench of burnt flesh assaulted his sensitive nostrils, bringing tears to his eyes. He looked around in absolute astonishment; butchered Orc bodies scattered all over the camp. Some were piled up in the fire; the hungry tall flames consumed them quickly.

Carefully, Túrion walked over a few bodies. His eyes scanned the area with great care as he hoped to find a trail, anything that could indicate that she had been here. Was it wrong to hope in the first place? He clenched his jaw and a determined look took over his features. If she was alive, he would find her.

As he walked around the camp, his scrutinous gaze found something in a nearby bush. He reached out for it and once he retrieved it he almost forgot how to breathe as he looked at the familiar piece of clothing. It belonged to her. He was one hundred percent of it. As he trailed past the bushes, he noticed a trail of blood; red spots of blood that led him away from the gruesome sight. She was hurt… or worse. For now, all he could think about was finding her. If she was alive, she'd probably need treatment. He quickly looked over his shoulder and his eyes met his cousin – Ceríon.

"Go back! Go and fetch a healer!"

His cousin nodded slowly, "What of the King? What shall I tell him?" he asked, his voice sounded weak and it was quite obvious that he was very afraid.

Túrion took a deep breath, "You will tell your King the truth. Now go!"

The blond-haired elf stalked forward, following the trail of blood. If she was dead, as difficult as it would be, he would bring her home. Inching slowly, he made a suddenly turn to his left. His eyes roved the space quickly and he found her; at last.

She was slumped to the floor, knees bent and the sides of her feet were flat as if she had sunk down in defeat. Her once blonde-hair was now covered in dirt and blood. The dress she wore was ripped and bloodstained; tracks of dirt and muck stuck to her bare feet.

With another thought, he was crouching next to her. She was shivering violently and he could hear her ragged breath. Slowly, his hand reached out for her shoulder and she stiffened immediately when he touched her.

"Aerthel," he spoke softly.

The she-elf flinched at the sound of his voice but her head remained safely between her arms. She was still shivering and her breath was still loud and uncontrolled.

"Aerthel… you are safe. They are all dead," he told her and squeezed her shoulder gently in an attempt to reassure her that the vile creatures were no more. He did not know what had happened but he spotted the sword resting on the ground next to her and comprehension finally took over him. He had heard of her abilities as a fighter but he had never seen her hold a sword before.

Her head moved slightly upward and she peered at him between the strands of her dirty and bloodstained hair. She had a nasty cut across her lips and a terrible distorted green and blue bruise on her chin.

"Do not touch me," she hissed at him.

Túrion was completely baffled with her reaction. She had never treated him in such manner before. The way she looked at him sent waves of panic straight to his heart as he stared back at the beautiful mix of grey and blue that looked right at him in outright suspicion.

"Aerthel…" he started again but did as she asked of him. He removed his hand from her shoulder, "It is me… Túrion…"

She looked up at him and he could see that her suspicion was slowly fading away and was replaced with shock, "You… you know m-me?"

Túrion blinked and for a while he just stood there unmoving and unresponsive as he did not know what to say. He looked straight at her and waited. He waited for the recognition to light her features but it would not come. Then, slowly, he nodded and attempted to offer her a smile, "Yes. I do. You are my precious friend," he answered, unable to keep the pity from both his voice and face.

Aerthel's bottom lip quivered and she moved a trembling hand, closing it around the fabric of his green tunic, "I want to g-go home. I want my father."

Túrion frowned and quickly slid an arm around her back. She whimpered loudly and he winced as it hurt him to cause her pain. It was then when he saw the black ugly arrow sticking to her side that he cursed loudly. Aerthel's head suddenly fell onto his shoulder and her entire body was limp against him.

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><p>The first thing Aerthel felt when she woke was the pain in her side. She could barely move without making it hurt. The second thing that she noticed was the softness beneath her body which allowed her to sigh in relief. She was home. The terrible sense of danger was entirely gone and it was replaced with a sense of safety that only her home was able to provide it for her. She slowly moved again and took a deep breath. She gasped loudly as a sharp pain shot across her upper body eliciting a violent coughing fit. She whimpered at the pain and then suddenly stiffened when she distinctly heard the sound of feet shuffling softly around the room.<p>

Her eyes widened in absolute disbelief as she watched the King approach her bed. What was he doing in her chambers?

"Thranduil!" she spoke out in shock, forgetting his title.

Aerthel was even more stunned when he sat down in her bed and slowly moved his big hands to her face. He cupped her chin gently; his eyes inspected the healing injuries appraisingly. The healers had done well. His eyes stopped on hers and he frowned. "What happened?" he inquired almost forcibly.

She blinked and tried to ignore the soaring pain and looked at her King. What was he doing in her room? She frowned and tried to focus on his request and then she slowly shook her head. She could not for the life of her remember what had happened.

"Is my father here?" she asked. Her voice was barely a whisper as she registered the shock on her King's face. She had never seen so many emotions going through his face at once. Was he well? Oh no, did anyone else get hurt?

"My king?" she asked softly, ignoring the way her cheeks were instantly cold the moment he removed his hands.

"You do not remember?" He asked softly. Was she dreaming? Why was his voice so quiet and soft? She could not help but to notice the dark circles under his eyes. He looked very tired and then she felt sorry for him. He was probably worn out from his duties. His father had died recently, almost one-hundred years ago and the weight of the crown was still too heavy to bear.

"What is it?" she asked, her hand moving to his forearm, "Thr- My king you must tell me. What is it?" She repeated the question, this time her tone was urgent.

Thranduil seemed to be considering whether he should tell her or not. He slowly took her hand in his and he could feel her stiffening. She had this look on his face that he knew too well. She was prepared for whatever he had to say to her.

"Your father is dead. He died a long time ago." He replied, his piercing blue eyes scanned her face and watched as shock was quickly replaced with a frown and then her face was blank, void of any emotion.

Just then, before she could reply, the door to the room was pushed wide open.

"Father! Mother!"

A blonde-haired little elf ran towards the bed, a wide grin gracing his beautiful child-like features.

Aerthel's head snapped towards Thranduil and then back at the child. She felt a strong wooziness take over her, almost as if stars exploded before her eyes. She swayed backwards and found herself slipping back into darkness one more time.

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><p>AN: Thought I'd try and write something that is not anime related. My first fic based on Tolkien's fandom so I hope you're not cringing that much and wishing me ill. Reviews aren't necessary.

The next chapters are already in the making.

Thanks for reading,

Creidhe.


	2. Chapter 2

_STAR_GAZING

CHA_PTER T_WO

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><p>The young boy was quickly gathered in his father arms, "Not now Legolas!" Thranduil spoke as he carried his son towards the door. He frowned slightly when his son stiffened at the sound of his rasped tone. He had not intended to let his annoyance slip out of control; not towards his son. By the door, the child's nursemaid had her head down, not daring to look at the King's face.<p>

"M-my apologies your majesty!" she blurted out quickly and reached her arms to take the child from him.

Legolas leaned forward and wrapped his tiny arms around the silver-haired she-elf. He hid his face between her neck and shoulder and Thranduil could not help but think that perhaps the child was becoming too spoiled if he could not handle being spoken to in such a manner.

"Your mother needs to rest," Thranduil said making sure to keep his tone neutral this time. Legolas shyly looked up at him and nodded slowly. Thranduil's eyes moved away from his son and looked at the still nervously-looking elf, "If perhaps my son is too much to handle-"

Sídthel's eyes widened at the implication and she quickly shook her head, "Please your majesty, it will not happen again!" Her heart was beating furiously against her ribcage and she momentarily wondered if both the child and his father could hear it. She was the fourth nursemaid in eight years and she was aware of how strict Thranduil was when it came to his son.

A sigh escaped from the King's lips and Sídthel blinked as she had never once seen him sigh before. She often used to comment with Elhedril how King Thranduil was the most odd elf they had ever encountered. Never before they had seen him do such mundane things such as sneezing, yawning or coughing.

"Very well…" he added tiringly, "Go now, I will call for my son later."

Sídthel nodded vehemently, "Heard that Legolas? Say good-bye to your father."

Legolas face illuminated suddenly and a wide grin was quickly in place in his child-like features, "Bye father!" he said and hugged Sídthel tightly as she whirled around and carried him away.

Thranduil stood by the door until they disappeared from his scrutinous gaze. Slowly, he turned around and walked back towards the bed. He dragged a green cushioned chair and sat next to the bed where Aerthel rested in. He could not forget the shocking expression on her face when Legolas had rushed in and called out for them.

When Túrion, the captain of his guard had said something was terribly wrong with his wife's memory, he had quickly dismissed it thinking she had been only in shock. But when she asked for her father he knew it then that Túrion had been right. Aerthel's memory did not seem to be working properly. Something clawed at his heart when he looked at Aerthel and he was surprised to realize that it was fear.

He remembered the last time he felt fear and it had been so long ago that he almost did not recognize the emotion within himself. Clenching his jaw, he moved his long fingers and tucked a few golden strands of hair away from Aerthel's peaceful-looking face. He refused to let fear take over him. Even if she did not have any memories of _them_ at the moment, he would not let fear strike him. He was above fear. He did not allow it to touch him or those that he loved.

Thranduil was sure that she would come to remember. He would not rest until she did. He would keep hope and crush down the fear that only seemed to be growing inside him. He would do so for his sake; for Legolas sake.

_"She fought them all on her own…" Túrion's tone was one of sheer disbelief, "there were orcs piled up, dismembered… there was blood everywhere and there she was… all alone, a bloodied mess, with nothing but a sword by the ground next to her. You did not see it; there was something in her eyes as though she was not herself. She did not know where she was… and who we were…"_

He did not know how long he sat there with his gaze firmly set on her but he would not leave not until she was awake.

After a few hours, Thranduil straightened himself when he noticed that Aerthel's eyes were open and she was lying in bed, looking straight back at him. He said nothing and allowed her to keep staring. He knew that she was probably confused if not slightly frightened and he really did not wish to cause her more distress. They stared at each other for quite a while and for a moment he hoped that she would remember.

"I lost my memories," she spoke, her voice smooth and controlled. If she was frightened or feeling overwhelmed she did not show it.

He nodded, "It appears to be so," he replied coolly.

"That boy…" she paused as she struggled with the blankets and tried to sit. Thranduil stayed put knowing that she would not welcome his help. She never did. Once she was mildly satisfied, she turned to look at him, "is our son?"

He arched a brow and nodded again, "Yes."

"So, I am married to you?" she asked in disbelief and watched as her King – no, her husband – frowned immensely. He looked almost insulted as if she was supposed to be delighted that she was married to him. She shook her head, "Forgive me; I just… do not remember anything."

Thranduil raised a hand, "You will come to remember everything," he said and ignored the cold shiver that ran up and down his spine. She would remember.

Aerthel nodded slowly, "I hope so." Her voice was barely a whisper, "It feels strange not knowing. One day you are my King, my brother's friend and the next I am your Queen," She shook and found that the thought of being Queen was beyond scary.

He could sense her uneasiness but that did not trouble him, "You have questions,"

She snorted loudly, "Thousands of them!" she said and looked at him, amusement sparkled in her eyes, "For one, I cannot for the life of me understand why I would ever marry you."

A very faint smirk played on his lips as he looked back at her, "I think you are blessed to have earned my… interest."

Aerthel blinked as his tone was light and teasing; - something that she would never associate with the Thranduil that she knew.

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted when the door to their room was abruptly opened. She winced at the explosion of light that invaded the room along with the intruders. Loud familiar voices filled the room and she saw Thranduil rise from his chair, looking rather upset at the unannounced trespassers. She could not see who the intruders were so she tried to sit straighter only to have her cry out in pain, hushing the entire room.

"Aerthel!"

Aerthel smiled meekly as she looked at her brothers. A sense of relief washed over her. She might not remember much of her past but at least she felt like nothing could ever go wrong now that they were there with her. All of her uncertainties vanished and she felt like she would be able to start anew.

"I am well!" she exclaimed as both of them reached for her hand, "I swear it."

"You do not look well, Aerthel," Hethurin, her oldest brother spoke as he looked down at her with apprehension written all over his features.

Hannór smirked, "When did she ever look well?" he asked playfully, but he deceived no one as his eyes scanned his little sister's bruises with great concern.

Hethurin paid his brother no heed and instead focused his gaze on Thranduil, "You said nothing would ever happen to her!"

"Mind your tone," Thranduil warned him, a stern look on his face as he looked back at Hethurin.

"Or what? Will you have me thrown in the dungeons for speaking the truth? That you are incapable of protecting my sister-"

Thranduil glared at Hethurin and even Aerthel forgot how to breathe as she realized just how much taller the King was in comparison to her brother. It was like watching a poor deer facing a gigantic elk. She shivered and felt her cheeks burn as she thought about how she looked when she was standing next to Thranduil. She suddenly visualized a dwarf version of herself next to him and then burst out laughing out loud startling all of them.

"What amuses you so?" Hannór asked, a smile blooming on his handsome features, no longer worrying for his little sister. She was laughing and that meant that all was well. Or that it would be.

"Dwarves." She replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she looked at Thranduil, "Did I ever tell you? I love dwarves."

Both Hannór and Hethurin looked at each other completely baffled away with their little sister behavior.

"I do not believe you ever saw a dwarf," Thranduil replied looking back at her, trying to figure her out.

"Well, we must change that." She congratulated herself as she had been able to distract both Hethurin and Thranduil before the argument could get ugly. She then offered Thranduil a grin and for a moment she thought she saw his gaze soften towards her. She quickly looked away, her attention back on her brothers but she could not hear a word that they were saying. It was odd… and she was probably imagining it, but there was something there whenever her eyes met Thranduil's. Only, she could not identify what that something was, but she knew it was there. It was as if she was staring at the tiniest star in a starry sky, waiting for it to grow brighter.

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><p><em>"It is like you are starting again,"<em> Hannór had told her. He had only tried to help but his words had only frightened her even more. She did not want to start again. She should not have to start again. Her heart ached at the thought of Legolas. She had a son, a son that she did not remember. How could a mother ever forget her own son? Tears came unbidden to her eyes and no matter how hard she tried to keep them at bay, they rolled down her face, untamed.

"Your majesty?" the lady-in-waiting whose name Aerthel did not remember called out for her.

"I cannot… I cannot see him today." Aerthel gasped and her hand went to her chest. It felt constricted as if she could not breathe, "Go! Go and tell him I cannot…" for two weeks, the boy had been asking for her and every day she refused to see him.

"But your majesty, the King has specifically asked-"

"Do not call me that!" She all but angrily exploded, "Get out! JUST LEAVE!" she shouted, gasping for breath as she closed the door behind her. She leaned her back against the door and slowly slid down. She sat on the floor and pushed her knees against her chest. Her entire body shook with every sob.

For two weeks she had been hiding in a different room than the one that she was supposed to share with her husband. Thranduil had allowed it; he had been very understanding when she explained that she needed time and to have her own space until she felt ready to start again. He had said that he would give her the time and space she needed under one condition. That she would see their son. That she would let Legolas see his mother. But how could she allow the boy to see his mother like this?

A loud knock on the door startled her. She sniffed as she quickly stood up and stepped backwards, watching as Thranduil walked inside. She looked up at him unflinchingly despite the scowl on his face, "I cannot see him," she said softly, almost pleadingly.

"You will see him," he told her sternly, "He is your son."

"I cannot-"

"You will."

"Please!" she begged him as tears threatened to fall again, "I just can't do it…"

Thranduil stalked forward and caught her off guard as he moved his hands to her shoulders, "I will be there. I will help. He is just a boy eager to see his mother. There is nothing to fear."

She looked up at him and she found herself nodding slowly. As he moved away from her, she suddenly reached for his hand and held to it tightly. She did not see the surprised look on his features as she was too preoccupied with what she was going to say when she saw Legolas. She could only hope that she could play her part well. She could only hope that the boy would like her.

_Of course he will like you. You are his mother._ She told herself over and over again.

Thranduil squeezed her hand gently, attempting to encourage her as he led them down the hallway.

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><p><em>Thanks for all the favourites and follows. I am slightly nervous about this chapter as it got written twice. I hope it was alright. Anyway, I am looking for a beta-reader because my boyfriend detests Thranduil and I feel bad forcing him to proof-read this. If you would like to help me out please drop a review or PM me. Thanks again for adding this story to your favourites and following. <em>

_Love, _

_Creidhe._


	3. Chapter 3

It was too late to turn back and run. Aerthel was absolutely sure that if she tried to run, Thranduil not only would frown upon such ill-mannered act but he would also be able to catch her with ease. She tried to ignore the way his hand gave her a gentle squeeze every now and then. Although it made her feel slightly uncomfortable, she could not help but to rejoice in the warmth that his hand provided.

She wished her memories would return to her. All of it felt terribly wrong without remembering. How was she supposed to _pretend_ that she was that boy's mother? What was she going to say to him? More importantly what if the boy realized that something was completely wrong with her?

She stole a glance at the King; _her husband_ as she had to remind herself. She remembered him when he was the Prince. A very vivid memory played in her mind. It was the day she first met him.

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><p>"Can I go father, please?" Aerthel asked as she leaned forward in her father's desk. She bit her lower lip and looked at him in expectation, "Hannór and Hethurin will be there and I promise to do as they say. So please, father. Will you let me go?"<p>

A long suffering sigh escaped from her father's lips. It had become incredibly hard to deny Aerthel anything ever since his wife passed away only just a century ago. He knew that he would not be able to deny her this request as he looked right into her blue eyes that burned with a liveliness that often made him wonder from whom she got that from.

"You are aware that it will be a fairly long hunt? The King himself will be attending." He replied calmly as he leaned back in his seat. Aerthel's expectant gaze did not falter and instead a sheer look of determination came to replace it. She was intent on having her way.

"I am well aware that the King will be attending," she replied evenly, "Hannór does not speak of anything else. And I am perfectly capable of enduring a few days without a proper bath. Honestly, father! I have hunted before!"

Daughter and father stared at each other as if they were engaged in a silent argument. Fainor inhaled deeply and then he finally gave her a short nod, "Very well. You may go on one condition," when she did not interrupt he carried on, "You will stay close to your brothers."

She squealed loudly and she quickly walked around his desk. Fainor chuckled when she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. He did not know how it happened but she had him wrapped around her little finger.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed happily as she moved away and ran towards the door, "I am going to get ready!" She shouted over her shoulder, "Do not let the boys leave without me!"

Once Aerthel was done packing, she surprised both her siblings by joining them in the stables. She flashed them a grin, "Good morning!" she said, not able to hide the excitement that she was feeling.

Both Hannór and Hethurin stared at each other before following after her sister, "Did father allow you to come with us?" Hannór asked. His voice was filled with amusement as unlike his brother, he did not mind that his little sister was tagging along. He quite enjoyed when she joined them for outdoors activities.

Hethurin took a deep breath as he looked at Aerthel. She had her back turned against them as she readied her horse, "Yes, father said I could go with you."

"May I enquire why do you wish to go?" Hethurin asked, with a slight edge of annoyance in his voice. He had thought that he would have time to completely relax in this hunting party and babysitting his little sister had not been part of his plans.

She looked over her shoulder, "Must I have a reason other than spending time with my brothers?" she asked, trying to keep her face straight as Hannór gave her the thumbs up behind his brother back. She smiled then when Hethurin seemed to soften up at her words.

"Fine. Just keep in mind that this is not a regular hunting party. The King will be there." He informed her matter-of-factly and then rolled his eyes when her eyes seemed to beam as he mentioned the King. She had never seen King Oropher before and she was dying to lay her eyes upon the elf that everyone spoke so highly of.

Hannór smirked, "Not only the King but his son Prince Thranduil will also be there,"

Hethurin glared at his younger brother as Aerthel squealed in excitement, "What of the Queen? Will she also be attending?"

"No. No one has seen the Queen for years now. Word is that she does not leave the Royal Chambers that much." Hannór spoke as he approached Aerthel and helped her with the saddle.

Aerthel frowned at such news, "Why have I never heard of this?" she asked, wondering how the Queen not being seen by the public eye in many years could possibly go unheard, mere talk of the subject should be flying into every corner of the Kingdom.

"You should not talk of it." Hethurin said in a reprimanding tone, "Promise it Aerthel."

She took a deep breath but nodded, "I promise it."

The southern part of the woods was completely foreign to Aerthel. She had never been here before as she had been ordered by her father and was constantly reminded by her brothers that the southern regions were not safe without proper escort. So she rejoiced on the opportunity to be finally able to escape to a part of the woods she had never set her eyes on. Her enthusiasm was cut short though as she noticed that these parts were not much different from home and could not help but to feel somewhat disappointed.

Both Hannór and Hethurin's constant bickering came to a sudden halt when they could finally hear voices chatting animatedly. Aerthel straightened up and as their horses led them between the trees, they finally arrived to where the Royal party was camping.

Aerthel was reality struck – a spasm in the pit of her stomach – and her breath caught in her throat as she took in her surroundings. She had never seen anything like it. A few elves gathered by the many lit campfires, others sat in groups preparing their arrows. Some walked around the camp busy with their duties. She had known that the hunting party would be a big one but she was not counting it to be this great in numbers.

"Hethurin!"

She turned her attention to the tallest elf that she had ever seen in her life. He walked with a confidence and refinement that she had never thought possible for an elf to possess. His hair was a light colour of blond, almost silver-like. His eyes were the same colour of the clear sky above them.

Hannór jumped off his horse and he came to assist her. She did not notice Hannór standing next to her as she looked on, her gaze fixed on both Hethurin and the other elf.

"That's Prince Thranduil," Hannór told her, smirking slightly when his sister's gaze met his. "Now will you please dismount?" he asked playfully.

Aerthel smiled at him and dismounted easily, "I'm not a child anymore. I am perfectly well able to dismount on my own."

Hannór laughed and bowed at her, "As my lady says," he said and smirked at her, earning a half glare from his sister.

Hethurin turned to look up at his good friend Thranduil only to find that his gaze was set upon his siblings. He frowned slightly, "My apologies my friend. My father practically forced me and Hannór into letting my dear sister come with us."

Thranduil arched an amused brow, "It is of no consequence, Hethurin. Your sister is more than welcome to join us. You and your brother have been speaking of her for years now and I almost started to believe that you were hiding her away deliberately."

Hethurin opened his mouth to speak but no voice came out as his sister was walking towards them, an entertained Hannór walked slowly behind her. He watched as she approached and halted right before the Prince.

"You must be Prince Thranduil," Aerthel spoke, a smile adorning her features, "I am Aerthel and I hope to be great friends with you just as my brothers are." She blurted out and her eyes met the Prince's penetrating gaze. Not for one moment she flinched under his scrutinous look and waited for him to speak.

Thranduil looked down at Aerthel and he could not help but think that he had never encountered such a short elleth before. He nodded slowly and smiled faintly, "I hope so too, Aerthel. I am most pleased that your brothers allowed you to come."

Aerthel arched a brow, "Hethurin is still pouting over the fact that I have come along. He is most concerned over your opinion of him. He is scared that I might ruin it."

Hethurin gawked and Hannór suddenly laughed at the amused look on the Prince's face. Aerthel had to be the bluntest elleth he had ever encountered.

Thranduil looked over at Hethurin, a playful smirk on his face, "I assure you my friend, I will always hold you in high regard."

Aerthel smiled and patted her brother's shoulder, "There you go!"

Hannór quickly interjected before his brother exploded with embarrassment, "Aerthel, come with me." He said and quickly pulled his sister away. She flashed both Hethurin and Thranduil a grin before she walked after Hannór.

Hannór wrapped an arm around his sister's shoulders, "Do you see that group over there?" he asked, pointing to a small group by the campfire. It was a group that consisted only of females. Aerthel tensed against him and looked up at him in confusion, "Why don't you sit with them while we get everything ready?"

"But father said not to leave your side!" she retorted as she looked at the group and felt mortified about having to talk to a bunch of strangers.

"Oh come on, Aerthel. You need female friends," he said and ignored the way she narrowed her eyes at him, "And it is only for a while. I promise that as soon as the hunting starts you can stay by our side."

She took a deep breath and looked at Hannór, "Fine. But know that I am not pleased."

He smiled, "Go on now. You might actually enjoy their company."

She rolled her eyes but made her way towards the campfire.

The small group that consisted only of females hushed down considerably as Aerthel approached them. They looked back at Aerthel in surprise as they certainly had never seen her before.

"I do not think we have had the pleasure of meeting you. I am Belegyril," she stood up and gave her a courtesy nod.

Aerthel looked over at Belegyril and nodded in acknowledgement, "I am Aerthel,"

A tall red-haired elleth stood up, "Hannór's little sister?!" she asked in disbelief, "I never thought this day would come! He is always talking about his little sister but we were starting to think it was all in his head since we never got to see you in the King's hall,"

Aerthel blinked and wondered why Hannór would spend his precious time talking about her. It made her feel slightly uncomfortable, "Well he certainly never mentioned any of you," she blurted out and took a seat close to the fire, "So are you all going to participate in the hunt?" she asked, quickly changing the topic as she scanned the small group. She felt quite discomfited when she was under the spotlight.

The others exchanged surprised looks at Aerthel's question, "No. Of course not! We are here just to watch," Belegyril said and then arched a curious brow, "Do not tell me that you actually intended to hunt?"

Aerthel drew her brows together, "Why yes. Why else would I come all the way here?" she asked in confusion.

The red-haired she-elf snickered, "Because the Prince is here and so are all his dearest friends,"

"You only have come to look at the Prince?" she asked in astonishment. She had seen the Prince for the first time barely an hour ago and even though she admitted that he might be the most handsome ellon she had ever lay her eyes on, she could not for the life of her understand why these lot would come all the way to a hunt that would last days just to ogle at males.

The others laughed at her question and began chatting happily about the upcoming harvest celebration. Aerthel listened in but did not make an effort to get into the ongoing conversation. Her eyes roamed around the camp and she could see both Hethurin and Hannór. The two of them were in a small group, they were laughing. It warmed her heart to see them happy. She knew that her brothers desired to leave home and start living on their own. The only thing that was holding them back was her. The feeling of guilt clawed at her heart as she did not want them to leave.

Then suddenly a loud voice announced that they were departing. Aerthel stood up and started to make her way towards her brothers but was stopped as a dark-haired ellon placed himself in front of her, "Your brothers ask you to ride with the ladies,"

Aerthel frowned and tried to find her brothers but they were not in the same place anymore. She struggled to see them amidst the sudden crowded camp when Belegyril placed a soft hand on her shoulder, "Come on dear, you will enjoy riding with the rest of us."

The weight of her bow and quiver on her back was a constant reminder of all the fun that she was missing. For hours, she sat in her horse and rode along with Belegyril and the others. Her group was too far behind to actually see any hunting done. All they did was chat quietly, every now and then they would comment on something that they saw or heard.

Aerthel could not believe that her brothers had betrayed her in such a manner. They might as well have told her to stay home! She chewed on her lower lip; a bad habit she had developed whenever she was upset.

As the sun slowly climbed down the sky, it displayed the most beautiful shades of color. Aerthel could spot amber, red, a little mix of blue and purple. The pattern was so simple yet so intricate and elegant. She always found that the sky was the most beautiful when the sun was halfway down the horizon. She often found herself wishing it to stop there a while longer so she could stare at it forever.

The first day seemed to be over. As Aerthel group approached the main group, they could see that everyone was already preparing to camp for the night. Her eyes narrowed when she spotted her brothers laughing and joking around. She then quickly dismounted her horse and quickly marched towards them. She completely ignored the surprised look on Thranduil's face as she pointed an accusing finger at her oldest brother's chest.

"I did not come all the way here to sit on my horse all day and do absolutely nothing but chat on how beautiful Prince Thranduil's hair is!"

Hannór winced and Hethurin blinked down as his sister looked absolutely peeved. Thranduil on the other hand looked down at the angry elleth with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Aerthel you are causing a scene," Hethurin spoke quietly as he could feel everyone's curious gazes upon him.

"Have it your way Hethurin. I just thought that for once we would be able to do something together." Aerthel's voice cracked slightly and she turned around. She heard Hannór call out for her but she promptly ignored him. Tears prickled her eyes but she stubbornly refused to let them fall.

Hethurin took a deep breath and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Just let her go,"

One by one, little bright dots started to appear in the sky as the sun began to disappear. The stars came out slowly at first, like shy little children. Aerthel wandered through the forest, her footsteps inaudible just like she had been taught to. Her bow was ready as she scanned her surroundings. She had successfully managed to walk past the assigned sentries and decided to have her own share of fun by herself. The others were now far behind sitting by their campfires, sharing all kinds of stories and songs.

Hours went by and Aerthel was finding it odd that she had yet to encounter any type of wild life. She blinked suddenly when she felt something wet on her cheek. She moved her hand and brushed her fingers against the wet substance only to find out that it was water. As she looked up, she frowned as droplets of water now fell more steadily against her skin.

She sighed loudly and her shoulders sank in defeat. She needed to head back before anyone noticed her absence. _Not that they would care_, Aerthel felt bitter as she thought about her brothers.

The rain began falling down relentlessly and she suddenly gasped as she lost her footing in the now mud-covered ground. She whimpered almost imperceptibly as she fell down in a most ungraceful manner. She struggled to get on all fours and then as she forced herself to stand, a strong sharp pain shot up from her ankle causing her to cry out.

Every time she placed her right foot on the ground the pain was exponentially more excruciating. She bit her lower lip hard and forced herself to carry on. However, she was not making much progress. Her trek was slow, painful and on top of that her clothes were completely soaked through. She was shivering slightly when a thunderous lightning bolt sounded from above her, making her heart skip a beat.

After a while, Aerthel no longer could keep going. She leaned her back against one of the tree trunks and let herself slide down. She removed her boot to inspect her ankle and her eyes widened at how swollen it was. In a few hours it would be daylight and she was still too far from the camping site. She felt quite foolish and she could already imagine all sorts of things that her brothers would say.

A sudden lightning illuminated the dark forest for a brief moment and her eyes caught the glimpse of a tall shadow. She quickly reached for her bow and readied an arrow. She narrowed her eyes; her heart was beating hard and frantically against her ribcage.

"Who goes there!?" she asked, trying to sound quite menacing but her voice came out shaky and quite pathetic.

"Aerthel," a calm, smooth voice called out her name.

Rushed footsteps seemed to approach her. Whoever it was, he knew her. Or at least he knew her name. She saw him then, her eyes lit up and she was suddenly quite speechless. Thranduil approached her fast, his stride an elegant one. He knelt before her, "Are you injured?" he asked as he took a look at her bare swollen ankle.

"Yes. I..-" she refrained from giving him an explanation. She did not want to look any more stupid than she already felt.

"Your brothers are incredibly worried," he spoke coolly; "I assume that you cannot walk."

"You assume correctly," she snapped, feeling quite irritated. From all the elves to come and rescue her it had to be the Prince! She could not feel more mortified.

Thranduil raised a brow at the manner he was being spoken to. He did not remember the last time he was spoken to like this.

"Well then," he suddenly moved an arm under her knees while his other arm went to her back. He felt her tense against him as he picked her up and almost smirked at how uncomfortable he was making her feel.

Aerthel wanted to protest and to tell him to put her down but she knew that she was not in any condition to walk.

"May I inquire as to why you would think it a good idea to hunt in the dark?" Thranduil asked; there was clear amusement present in his velvet-smooth voice.

"I was not allowed to do any hunting during day light," she replied sharply, "Do you even know what it is like to ride in the back with _them_!?"

A small smirk played on his lips as he carried her through the woods, "Oh please do tell."

Aerthel frowned, "You are mocking me."

Thranduil's smirk widened slightly, "I am not," he replied, "I was genuinely interested in what else the ladies speak of… other than my beautiful hair."

A groan escaped from her and she took a good look at his hair.

Belegyril was right; he did have beautiful hair.

* * *

><p>Aerthel blinked as she felt both she and Thranduil come to a stop. She took a look at her surroundings; she did not even remember walking this far as she had been too lost in her memories. Thranduil squeezed her hand and looked down at her in concern, "Are you feeling well?"<p>

She gave him a short nod, her gaze enthralled as she looked ahead. They were in the main garden and just a few feet away there was Legolas. He was practicing archery. There was a costume-made bow in his hands that suited the length of his small arms. He held a perfect position and he was so incredibly focused that he had yet to notice them.

"You built that bow for him," Thranduil told her nonchalantly.

She looked up at him and took a deep breath, "Why can I not remember?" she whispered softly, "What is wrong with me?"

He frowned slightly, "We do not know. The healers think that it might be the poison aftereffects. They are hopeful that you will come to remember soon."

"And If I do not?"

"You will."

She wondered how he could be so certain. She nodded slowly and just hoped that he was right.

"MOTHER!" Legolas was running towards her and then she abruptly knelt down and opened her arms for him. The child embraced her tightly and she could feel her heart all the way up to her throat. She hugged him back, hesitantly and slowly at first and only after a while she hugged him back just as tightly, "Are you alright now?" he asked and she did not miss the way he shivered against her.

"Yes," she replied as she pulled away. She smiled at him and moved a lock of his blonde-hair away from his face, "I'm feeling better now,"

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: All I can say is thank God for spell checker and my boyfriend to proof-read this again! LOL poor him. I'd like to thank everyone for adding this story to their favorites and for following. A big thanks for the kind and considerate reviews. Thanks and hope you enjoyed it. _**

**_PS- still looking for a beta._**

**_Love Creidhe._**


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